Letting Go
by Her Royal Nonsense
Summary: One short moment of uncertainty on Clarice's part, and Dr. Lecter is a free man. Alternate ending to the 2001 movie. Please r&r!


**A/N: **_My first 'Hannibal' fanfic. Just another common, alternate ending that I hope you'll all enjoy. If you guys like this one, I do intend on continuing it with a full-length Hannibal fic, entitled 'No Good Deed'! Thanks to all who read and review._

_And I own nothing._

_Yes. Oh, and by the way, this Clarice is played by Jodie Foster, not Julianne Moore. But, whichever floats your boat. _

* * *

Iron chains wrapped their steely hold about her wrists, and a sharp cry tore its way up her throat as Clarice crashed full-force into the refrigerator behind her. He captured and held her gaze with his angry, maroon eyes, though he was somewhat amused at her attempt to appear fearless in his grip. Although she attentively watched Dr. Hannibal Lecter shift his attention to his left for the slightest moment, the breath was forced from her lungs as he trapped her long, chocolate-coloured ponytail inside. He held up the broken handle for a moment, playfully mocking her; assuring her that her struggles were in vain without having to say a word. 

Hannibal inhaled deeply, calming himself as Clarice only stiffened. "Tell me, Clarice," he began quietly, "would you ever say to me 'Stop'? 'If you loved me, you'd stop.'?"

_If I believed, for a moment even, that's all it would take, I would have said it a long time ago, pal. If it meant that your victims would have lived if I asked you to stop, I would. But, I don't think you would, Hannibal. I don't think you would._

Clarice watched as his face changed slightly, his features became softer; almost more human. She saw a certain vulnerability and sadness that reflected in his eyes that moment, which made her reconsider her answer.

_Is it possible for him to change?_

But, that emotion disappeared as soon as it came, and he masked himself with the hard, mocking smirk he always wore while patiently awaiting her answer.

"Not in a thousand years." Clarice hissed, bitterly.

His brows arched and he nodded despondently, his ice-cold eyes narrowing as if in thought. Clarice bit her lip as he reached out to tuck a stray lock behind her ear. "Not in a thousand years," he repeated, solemnly. Hannibal suddenly lunged towards her, mouth open, and Clarice would later swear she believed he was going to take a chunk clean right out of her.

That didn't happen.

Instead, he brought his face dangerously close to hers. Clarice ignored the inviting, warm feel of his breath against her skin as her eyes focused on his lips.

"That's my girl." Dr. Lecter's menacing, wicked voice bit out.

And then he kissed her. His lips were surprisingly warm and gentle as they covered her own; not at all how Clarice would have imagined a madman's kiss to be. It was almost soothing, and Clarice was absolutely horrified that she was… enjoying it; responding to him; wanting more.

_Why? This is so wrong… why am I drawn to him? He's a madman! He belongs in prison or worse… and here I am, savoring his touch! What the hell is wrong with me?_

_No, stop…he has to stop. If he doesn't, I don't think I can…_

A single, crystalline tear formed in the corner of her eye and left a glistening, wet trail as it rolled down her cheek.

_He has to stop._

Snap. The sudden click of the handcuffs caused Dr. Lecter's eyes to dart open, and he pulled deftly away from her. He held up his hand, amused to find that Clarice had bound herself to him. He released a soft chuckle, and Clarice never found a response as innocent as laughter to be so terrible and intimidating. "Now, that's really interesting, Clarice," he hissed, "and I'm really pressed for time, so where's the key?"

Clarice remained silent; defiantly tilting her chin upwards as he gripped her hand tighter. "Where's the key?" He repeated, more forcefully this time.

Nothing. Clarice wasn't going to give in, at least not in the short amount of time he had. "Okay," Dr. Lecter sighed, looking behind himself for the meat cleaver. Once he retrieved it, he hastily pulled Clarice's cuffed wrist and pinned it to the table. He looked at her menacingly before the threatening cleaver was raised, "Above or below the wrist, Clarice?"

_No…_

"This is really gonna hurt…"

Clarice's intellectual mind had gone blank as time seemed to slow. Dr. Lecter wasn't paying attention to her; his eyes were focused on his own hand as the cleaver remained high above his head.

_He's not going to hurt me… he's- he's going to cut off his own hand!_

Just as the blade swept downwards, Clarice's other hand darted out and gripped desperately onto Dr. Lecter's right wrist. "Don't! Stop!"

"If you insist, my dear. Where's the key, Clarice?"

Clarice's hand trembled as he gently placed the cleaver down, she really didn't know what she was doing. Clarice reluctantly opened it, revealing the small metal key that insured Dr. Lecter's freedom.

_Don't let him take it! Don't let him…_

But her hand remained open as he took it from her. She flinched slightly as his fingers grazed hers much like they had ten years ago. It sent undeniable shivers up her spine. Clarice couldn't understand why she didn't stop him- why she couldn't stop him. She was a professional FBI agent, for heaven's sake, and he was one of the world's most dangerous criminals!

_Who cares if he cuts his fucking hand off! Stupid, stupid, Clarice!_

She shook her head but she couldn't stop him as he freed himself from the cuffs. It was as if she was frozen in place. Clarice closed her eyes as another tear fell. She felt him wipe it delicately away with his thumb before his lips met hers once more in a soft, brief kiss.

"Clarice," he breathed after pulling back slightly, "I could live a thousand years, and never taste anything so sweet." Clarice stifled a sob, keeping her eyes firmly shut. "Goodbye, Clarice."

She heard his footsteps becoming fainter as they approached the door, but the steady sounds of his breathing told her he was still in the room. "Hannibal," she began, turning her head to look directly into his ice cold eyes. "Please stop."

Hannibal Lecter's only response was a slight bow of the head.

_What have I done..._

* * *

_Okay, I know people have been reading, and thanks to the two people who have this 'favourited'. I really would like to know what people thought before posting my second, so please, take a second to review, it's muchly appreciated. Kisses, _


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